


where styx meets lethe

by etoilette



Series: Kinktober 2020 [9]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Clone Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dream Sex, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26919847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilette/pseuds/etoilette
Summary: Day #9 of Kinktober: Clone SexIn his restless dreams, Akira sees the engine room. Only Akechi's not the only one in there.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Cognitive Akechi Goro, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Kinktober 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949695
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	where styx meets lethe

Akira opens his eyes in that awfully familiar dark room, with the blaring klaxons and metallic floor. It's been so many times that he's lost count by now, and he turns his head to the side wearily, already knowing what he's going to see.

The stupidly menacing logo for Shido's political party greets him from where it's emblazoned on that bulkhead door. In reality (or as close to reality as the Metaverse is, anyway) he hadn't been able to see anything beyond it. But here, in this dream, the metal is glass, invisible and transparent, and he can see exactly what's happening on the other side.

Akechi Goro — the black Crow — lies on the ground, lifeless and unmoving. He's not dead yet — there is no blood pooling around him, no bullet hole in between his eyes — but it looks like he's already miles away. Another Akechi Goro — dressed as if he's on his way to school and just stopped for a detour — is crouched in front of him, between his parted legs, pushing up Crow's knees as he pounds into him like a dog in heat.

As if sensing Akira's gaze, Akechi turns to him and smiles. Akira remembers learning about how people are easily tricked into thinking animals like chimpanzees and dogs are smiling when they're actually baring their teeth as a threat. How the misconception humanizes them in a dangerous way. Humans can't understand why the animal that had looked so friendly mere seconds ago would try to kill them, and animals responding to a perceived threat don't comprehend why they are being put down.

Akechi's smiles in reality had always been pleasant, even when the intent behind them had been less so. This Akechi's smile is too wide, showing too much teeth. A very clear threat that ironically makes him easier to understand than the real Akechi had ever been.

"Enjoying the view?" Akechi taunts. He grinds in deep, moving his hips in an exaggerated manner. Crow moans softly but otherwise gives no reaction. From his angle, waking up this late in the game, Akira isn't sure if Crow is dissociating from the horror of his situation, or if he's simply gone insensate from the pained pleasure.

Akira shakes his head. He doesn't trust himself to form any words right now. Not when he can already feel the pinpricks of heat building up behind his eyes as he stares at Crow's face, willing for him to fight back. Say something. Do _anything_ to show that he's still in there somewhere.

There is a gun lying next to Akira's hand and he picks it up, the motion smooth and practiced. It's heavy and when he checks the chamber, there is only the one bullet inside.

It's no surprise — it's been this way for as long as this room has plagued Akira's nightmares.

He watches as Akechi starts to snap his hips faster and faster, parting Crow's slender legs so wide that any other person would have pulled a muscle in the inner thigh. Akira can see Crow's limp dick bouncing against his stomach with each thrust, can hear the dazed gasps punched out of him every time Akechi slams in.

When Akechi moans and seats himself deep inside of Crow's ass, his body trembling with the effort of release, Akira raises the gun and points it at his own temple. There is no hesitation before he pulls the trigger.

* * *

Akira opens his eyes in that awfully familiar room, with the blaring klaxons and the metallic floor.

He turns his gaze towards the glass wall with that stupidly menacing logo, and the view is different this time. Crow is on his knees, a feral and angry look in his eyes despite the dick in his mouth. He suckles at Akechi's cock obediently nonetheless, bobbing his head up and down, really putting on a show of enjoying himself.

The last time this scenario played out, Akechi's gun had been pointed at a tied-up and ball-gagged Navi. This time, it's pointed at Joker. It looks remarkably like the real deal, except this one is staring at the Black Mask with tears in his eyes.

"Please don't let him shoot me, Crow," the fake Joker begs. "I don't want to die."

It's ridiculous. It's a farce. It's such an obvious fiction that Akira can't help but laugh and laugh. But Crow shuts his eyes tightly for a second before he swallows in even more of Akechi's dick, pressing his face against the pelvic bone.

"You're doing so well this time," Akechi coos as he uses his free hand to pet Crow over the helmet. "Nothing like the possibility of me blowing a hole in your boyfriend to get you actually putting that disgusting mouth of yours to use, hm?"

Crow doesn't even try to say anything. The anger is leaking out of his eyes, until they're dead and resigned.

"Don't stop sucking," Joker urges. "Make him cum."

Anger rises up in Akira's chest. Hot and furious, like molten lava. For the first time in a long while, he pushes himself to his feet and he walks towards them. His feet drag against the ground, and his body is heavy, like he's moving through molasses. But he manages to make his way towards the glass and he slams a fist against it, staring at Crow through the red stain of the logo.

"Don't listen to him, Akechi," he snarls, pressing his face against the glass as if the proximity would make the words hammer home. "Summon Loki or Robin Hood and _fight back_ against him!"

"What an idea," Akechi exclaims, and to his horror, he sees the monstrous silhouette of Loki rise up from behind him. The flaming tip of Laevateinn points down towards Crow, grazing against his forehead. But it's as if he doesn't even notice it. He pulls himself off of Akechi's erection and licks up the shaft, mouthing at the leaking head and drinking down the flowing pre-cum like it's water.

"Akechi" Akira says, and to his horror, he can feel his breath hitching, his words coming up uneven at the sight of his rival — his _something —_ being broken down in this way. "Akechi, please."

Crow doesn't even look at him. Loki raises the sword high above his head and starts to bring it down on his head.

Before he could see Crow's head torn open by his own Persona, Akira scrabbles for the gun and holds it to his head. He closes his eyes and pulls the trigger, and he doesn't hear anything past the resounding gunshot echoing in his ear.

* * *

In the beginning, the dreams were nothing more than just Akira and Crow in a room together.

Not even Crow, now that he thinks about it. If he really wants to be accurate, he was always alone in the room, because the only other company he had was a corpse. Akechi Goro, dressed in that ridiculous Metaverse get-up, with a hole in his head, bleeding sluggishly onto the ground.

In those earlier nights, Akira had still been able to move freely. He had always leapt right to his feet, running across the room that seemed to stretch on forever, until he hit that glass wall, right under that stupidly menacing logo. He used to pound his fists against the barrier until he wasn't sure if the red was from the gloves or from his blood. Scream until he couldn't even force out words anymore. Staring all the while into lifeless red eyes until he woke up in the real world.

Takemi gave him pills that were supposed to knock him out, but they only trapped him in that dream for longer and longer until he dumped the entire bottle down the toilet. He used to toss back coffee after coffee, until he passed out on the train one day and woke up to Futaba and Sojiro's worried faces staring down at him in the hospital.

There's no escape from the engine room, and in some way, he likes thinking of it that way, because it's not as if Akechi had been able to leave from here. If there's even a part of him that can stay here with Akechi for ever and ever, then isn't that the ideal?

The more he dreamed though, the more changes happened in the room. The first change had been Crow actually waking up, looking dazed and dizzy, but it had been as if Akira was invisible to him. No matter how much Akira called out at him, he never looked his way, and eventually, Akira woke up with Akechi's name on his lips.

Somehow those dreams were worse. To see Akechi, alive and well, right in front of him, only to be torn away from him. It was absolute torture.

He isn't sure when exactly the cognitive Akechi made an appearance. Sometimes he would kill Crow right in front of him. Sometimes he would rip away all of Crow's clothes and rape him right there, in front of Akira's horrified eyes. Sometimes he would kill Crow when he finished. Sometimes he would just leave him alone, forcing Akira to watch Crow lie there, bleeding and crying.

On the fifty-sixth night, he saw a gun lying innocuously next to him. When he checked the chamber to see if it was loaded or a cognitive weapon, he saw a single bullet inside. There was ever only one target.

Akira held Crow's pleading gaze as he pointed the gun at his own head and pulled the trigger.

* * *

Akira opens his eyes in that awfully familiar room, with the blaring klaxons and the metallic floor.

He groans and thumps the back of his head against the ground, and he can hear without even looking towards that stupidly menacing logo just what is going on.

The sound of Crow's sobbing moans fills the air, like it does every night. Maybe just this once, he'll see Crow dominating Akechi for a change. But when he turns his head wearily to the side, he sees a variation of the same sight that greets him every night.

Crow is face-down on the ground, his hips hitched high in the air, as Akechi holds him close to his chest with his arms, rutting into him doggy-style. There is a sadistic grin clear on Akechi's face, and it takes a second for Akira to realize why he can make out the expression so easily. Normally, in these dreams, he is only able to see their profiles. But this time, Akechi had taken the time to manouevre himself and Crow so they're facing Akira head-on.

Akira doesn't know what this means for him. He doesn't know what this is trying to say about his psyche, or about the condition of his mind, that this immutable dream has started to change and in this fashion. His mouth is dry as he stares right into Crow's dull eyes. He doesn't know how long they had been going at it before he woke up in here, but there is a large puddle of watery cum on the ground underneath Crow's body and he looks tired and beaten down.

Calling him 'Akechi' would only garner a reaction from the cognitive version of him, so instead, Akira rasps out, "Goro."

Crow blinks and groggily shifts his head so he's staring straight at Akira.

"Akira?"

His voice is small and hoarse, and it sounds like he's asking himself the question, as if he can't quite believe what he's looking at.

Akira's heart starts to pound faster in his ear, and he sees Akechi's hips stutter to a halt, still buried deep inside of Crow's hole. He feels limp and weak with relief, and he crawls towards the translucent bulkhead separating him from the Black Mask. He doesn't care how pathetic he looks, on the ground like a worm, his hand reaching out in hopes that he can brush his fingers against the smooth and tear-stained face. All he can focus on is the clarity and recognition in Crow's eyes.

For the first time since all of this started, he's looking into the face of his rival again. Into the eyes of the real Akechi Goro, with all of his perfections and imperfections.

Crow's clawed gauntlets tense against the ground, finding some purchase as he also starts to crawl forwards, reaching out towards Akira's outstretched hand. The sound of metal on metal rings painfully in Akira's ear, but compared to the squelch of Crow's ass around Akechi's dick as he pulls the cognition along, it's like the most wondrous song he's ever heard.

Akira keeps expecting to hit the wall. Keeps imagining that he'll have to press his hand against the Crow's through a barrier of glass. But nothing impedes them as they move towards each other, until he finally laces his fingers through Crow's cold claws.

"Isn't that sweet?" Akechi laughs, and he starts to thrust his hips again. Crow's eyes roll up into his skull and he shudders at the stimulation. Feeling useless and wretched, all Akira can do is tighten his hold on Crow's hand, though it's doubtful that he can feel anything through his glove.

"Akira," Crow whimpers. "A-Akira..."

Akira's heart seizes in his chest, and he leans forward to try and press his lips against Crow's, to swallow that voice and that word for himself. But Akechi leans down and grabs Crow's neck, scooping it up and causing him to cough out a choke.

"I always knew you were stupid, but I didn't realize how daft you are," Akechi sneers. He reaches down with his other hand and pumps Crow's dick furiously, rubbing it until it's erect and he's whining. He twists desperately in the grip of his double, but Akechi only tightens the hold. "You can't even say the name of your master properly, dog?"

"I'm not your dog and you're not my master," Crow snarls, and for once in an eternity, he sounds like the Akechi that Akira knew. His voice is clear, as if his neck isn't forced back in an uncomfortable position.

"Oh, really," Akechi says in a derisive tone. He moves his hip and changes the angle, rutting in at a staccato rhythm, presumably hitting _something_ when Crow winces and lets out a sharp whine. "It would be more convincing if you aren't practically drooling for my cock."

"Goro," Akira says, but he isn't sure what he could say to comfort him. He watches as Crow's moans takes on a high-pitched edge, as more and more pre-cum starts to leak from his slit, dripping all over Akechi's fingers and wrist.

The gun sits heavily in his belt. For the first time, Akira doesn't need to reach out for the weapon. It hangs from his belt, snug and heavy, and he takes it out, keeping an eye on Akechi in case the cognition notices.

Akechi's eyes are fixed on Crow's, cruel glee in his eye as he abuses Crow's writhing body with his cock and hand. He leans down, prepared to engulf the real Akechi's lips in a kiss, but Akira moves faster.

He pushes himself to his feet, takes aim, and pulls the trigger.

The angle is terrible, with Akechi hovering over Crow's face, and with all the armour in the way, he can only aim at the forehead rather than anything else. But Akira — Joker — has always been a good shot.

The bullet buries itself right in between Crow's eyes, just like where the wound had been the first time Akira woke up in this world with the corpse of Akechi Goro unreachable on the other side of the bulkhead door.

"No!" snarls Akechi. His pace becomes frenetic even as he releases Crow and lets the body fall limply to the ground. Blood leaks out from around them, sticking to Akechi's hands as he mounts Crow from behind, chasing his orgasm with the pliant hole. "How could you do this to him? To _me!?"_

Akira doesn't answer. He watches as Akechi's body start to dissolve, fading away and dissipating like dust in the air. When he vanishes, it's without any fanfare, as if he never existed in the first place.

There's no bullet that Akira can use to remove himself from here and for a second he wonders if he'll be stuck here, in this room of regrets, for an eternity. But when he blinks his eyes, he's staring up at the ceiling in his childhood bedroom, far far away from Tokyo.

He never has the dream again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you wonder why Akira didn't just shoot the cognitive Akechi, you're valid but also shhh.....


End file.
